"Good-night, sleep tight, and don't let the mosquitos bite," Lucy called to her old friend as she followed Joe down the path. CHAPTER IV THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH A finer day could not have been chosen for the picnic. When the party started for the pine grove four miles from home there were six carriages full of people. It was a lovely place for a picnic party and Joe and Lucy played hard all day with their little friends. Six o'clock came all too soon. "Please stay a little longer and eat the rest of our lunch for supper," begged the children. The older people were quite willing. "It is a good thing we can get plenty of good water from that spring," said Lucy's father. "It is nearly as cold as ice water and certainly as cold as anyone ever ought to drink. I should like to come here every day for the sake of a drink of it." "I love to hear the water as it makes its way down over the rocks. They say the spring never dries up, even in the hottest days of summer," said Uncle Sam, who was standing near. "Uncle Sam! A story, a story!" cried some one, as they settled themselves on the grass to eat chicken sandwiches and apple turnovers. "That spring makes me think of something you might like to hear. It is true, though it is nearly as strange as a fairy story. I suppose the older ones all know it." "Do tell it, Uncle Sam," cried the children, and their parents seemed as willing to listen as the little ones. As the evening clouds changed from silver to gold and crimson, and the young moon peeped shyly out in the evening sky, Uncle Sam told the story of THE FOUNTAIN OF EVERLASTING YOUTH A long time ago there was a young knight in Spain named Ponce de Leon. He was gay and handsome, fond of dress and of good times. Columbus had made his voyages to America and come back to Spain to die. The men whom he had left in the West Indies needed a governor. The king looked around his court. At last he chose Ponce de Leon as the best man to send to the New World. The knight was quite willing, so he went to live in the island of Porto Rico, one of the West Indies. His life was an easy one. He did very little himself but was a cruel master over the poor Indians who had to work hard at his bidding. Before the white men came among them they had easy times, swinging in their hammocks, bathing in the clear waters, and eating the wild fruits which were so plentiful. Everything was changed after the arrival of the cruel Spaniards. "These white men are great and wise," the Indians had thought at first. "We must serve them and give them all we can. They wish gold. We will show them where they can find it in the earth and the beds of the rivers."